


35,000 ft

by apocrypha_luxe



Series: wildlands behind our ribs [3]
Category: Sicario (2015), Sicario (Movies), Sicario: Day of the Soldado
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Mile High Club, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pre-Canon, alejandro is a great big flirt, and really its, but hey, but matt is a bit of an idiot when it comes to alejandro, like epic pining, matt is losing his mind, of a sort, so hes coping via frustrated, weve all been there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 06:10:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17719616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocrypha_luxe/pseuds/apocrypha_luxe
Summary: They'd been in the air an hour, the first of a four-hour flight, and Matt felt like he was about to crawl out of his skin.





	35,000 ft

**Author's Note:**

> (Writing Smut On An International Flight: Part 1)

 

They'd been in the air an hour, the first of a four-hour flight, and Matt felt like he was about to crawl out of his skin. Every breath was stoking a fire, fanning oxygen into the embers in his blood, every drag of fabric over his body sending his skin tingling. His neck felt too warm, and he knew he was squirming, knew Alejandro was noticing all of it. He was a total disaster, just wished there was a way to sink into his seat and let it swallow him whole. 

The op had gone well, a little messier than he'd been planning for, but the small team he'd put together had delivered exactly the solid work he'd been expecting. A couple of scrapes and bruises, and his own close call with the edge of a rooftop that Alejandro had yanked him back from, but no real injuries. The fact that Alejandro had stuck so close to him this trip shouldn't be sending his head spinning like this, but, well. Here they were. 

It was happening more and more often lately, Alejandro stepping in between him and a target, making the difference between someone getting in his space and getting nowhere near him. And every single time it sent Matt's stomach into freefall. He liked it. A lot. Alejandro wanting to protect him, shield him. And maybe it was nothing, maybe Matt was imagining it, reading something into it that wasn't there, but christ. It felt like flirtation, possessiveness, and he  _ wanted  _ it. Was starting to expect it during jobs, Alejandro close by, waiting for the moment when he'd crowd in and cover him, all that tightly coiled fury focused on keeping Matt safe. A rough grip moving him where he needed him, intense eye contact when they were close enough to share the same air, fists and bullets flying and a snarl curling those soft lips. Every op was finishing with Matt sweating, aching, flustered. Returning to whatever base they were using and locking himself away somewhere private, breathing hard and too needy to keep his hands off himself for long. Unable to shake the memories of a strong hand wrapping around his bicep, a powerful chest pinning him to a wall as plaster exploded around them, a deep grunt of pain as a strike meant for Matt connected with him instead. He was unfocused and knew it would only be a matter of time until he utterly gave himself away, lost enough concentration to make a bad call or just do something stupid. He had to get a handle on this. 

But fuck, he had no idea how to get his brain to stop, and it was all just getting worse. A loop of  _ warmstrongclose  _ had been running on repeat through his head for two solid days now, growing louder every time Alejandro would linger near. And it was absolutely  _ wrecking _ him, driving him completely fucking insane with distraction. All he could think about how incredible it would be to have those hands on him, taking him apart, that mouth on his, that body wrapping around him. Matt was so goddamn hungry for it.

They'd been close since almost the moment they'd met, and there had always been threads of desire running through their friendship, but it was a soft thing. Tucked away in the background, a footnote, never quite acknowledged but never invisible either, something far too complicated to look at too closely. And he'd always been happy with that. Happy enough. But things had felt like they were shifting, the quiet flirtation holding more intent, touches lingering, gazes travelling. And before he realised it he was in over his head, totally out of his depth, totally clueless about what to do. Because at some point things had changed for him, and he'd come to the stunning realisation that he wanted Alejandro like he'd never wanted anyone before in his life. And now that he'd acknowledged it, it felt like he couldn't think about anything else. 

Like right now. 

Alejandro was shifting in the seat next to him, fidgeting a little, knees brushing and shoulder bumping into Matt's every time he moved. And it was making his heart race, making his blood thrum in his veins like he was some crazed hormonal teenager. Fucking  _ ridiculous .  _ Alejandro's deep voice startled him out of his train of thought. 

‘Would you mind if I…?’

And he was leaning over Matt, reaching to raise the blind on the window, peering out at the sea of clouds. Matt felt frozen in his seat. 

‘I love watching the sky up here.’ 

He turned his gaze on Matt, hazel eyes bright, face so, so close, whole body almost in his lap. 

‘Beautiful, don't you think?’

Matt's breath caught in his throat, fingers gripped tight at the arm rests, heat flooded south to pool rapidly between his legs. He could just lean forward, just a little, kiss that perfect mouth. A moment too late he realised his own eyes had drifted, staring as Alejandro's tongue licked wet across his bottom lip, that sinful mouth lifting into a smirk, and Matt felt the blush burning his cheeks as he met his gaze again. 

_ Oh, for fuck sake.  _

Matt felt trapped there, Alejandro boxing him in, gaze holding him in place. His whole body was aching, cock starting to take rapid interest in Alejandro's proximity, burning up while they watched each other.  _ Oh god _ _,_ he had to get out of here before he did something reckless. 

‘Hey, yeah, well I was about to get up anyway, why don't you take my seat?’

Alejandro watched him for a moment longer, expression turning curious before he drew back, climbing out of their row to give Matt space to move. It took every ounce of self control he possessed to get up from his seat slowly, desperately hoping that Alejandro wouldn't notice the undeniable bulge of his hard cock straining against his jeans, and make his way calmly down the aisle. He glanced back, the sight of Alejandro taking his seat doing strange things to his heart, before ducking into the toilet cubicle and locking the door. He was  _ so  _ screwed. 

‘Fuck.’ 

A shaky breath, a pause. 

_ ‘Fuck.’ _

And he was fumbling his belt buckle, button, zipper, drawing his cock out and gripping himself firmly. The first stroke of his hand had him biting off a moan, knees turning to liquid, his other arm coming up to brace against the door, his forehead resting on his overheated skin. Another slow drag of his fist, desire spreading through his veins thick and sweet, dripping over him, overwhelming him. Everything hot, tight, holding back against the surging sense of urgency under his skin. Guilt mingling with deep arousal, this aching need that felt so goddamn insatiable, and an underlying sense that he was somehow betraying their friendship with this. 

But fuck, surely Alejandro knew what he was doing? God, the way he had lingered there, right in Matt's space, watching him like that.  _ ‘Beautiful, isn't it?’ _ And Matt twisted his hand, rough on the up stroke, breathing hard, wanting that husky voice in his ear. Talking to him while he did this.  _ Oh fuck, yeah,  _ maybe Alejandro would have a dirty mouth, would tell him how to touch himself, would tell him how much he liked watching. 

Matt's skin was burning, the air in the tiny room suffocating him, every breath stuttering out of his lungs. The thought of Alejandro's voice, accent growing stronger with arousal, moaning his name against his ear, directing his hand, was sending his head reeling. The pressure in his chest grew painful, heart pounding hard, threatening to burst under the waves of intensity as his hand moved faster, desperate to draw breath and moan loud into the tiny room, desperate to cry out and feel Alejandro shielding him here too. Fuck, he wanted that so fucking bad. That powerful body crowding him against the wall, pressing close, holding him. 

His pace grew rough, messy, thumb catching on the head of his cock and spreading slick, the wet friction so damn sweet. Heat crackled like fireworks in the base of his spine, traveled out, spread through his limbs, settled heavy in his groin. He wanted Alejandro's hand on his belly, pulling him back against his body, wanted to feel him grow hard there while he watched Matt stroke himself. Wanted his mouth on his neck, sucking bruises into his skin that he wouldn't be able to hide, marking him, claiming him. Wanted his voice. Wanted sweet words. He buried his mouth against his forearm, desperately trying to muffle the noises he was making at the thought of Alejandro needing him like that. Needing him badly enough to push him inside an airplane bathroom and bring him off. 

Fuck. This was so much more than desire to let off steam. Matt ached with it, felt need glowing bright behind his ribs as much as in his veins. He wanted Alejandro's desire, his heart, focused hot on him. And he wanted to draw out Alejandro's light, make him fly, give him everything. It was all getting unbearable. He tightened his fingers a little, made the next stroke harder, imagined Alejandro's hand replacing his own, coaxing him higher. Imagined him whispering in Matt's ear, begging him to come.   
  
'Oh fuck,  _ Alejandro’  _   
  
He moaned around his name,  _ too loud _ _,_ goddamn it. He sped his hand, snapping his hips into his fist, desperately chasing release. His face was flushed, burning, sweat gathering at the base of his skull, and he was sinking. Melting into all the sensation, into the ghost of imagined words pressed against his ear, into the desire for strong hands holding him, working him. He was moaning, lips pressed hard against his arm as his orgasm slammed into him, ripped from his body. A high-speed collision of longing and wild arousal, and he was spilling all over his hand.    
  
Matt collapsed against the door, let it take his weight for a moment while he struggled to get his breathing under control. Flirting or not, Alejandro had never crossed that line between them, the brakes had always gone on when they'd danced a little too close to the fire. Matt knew he was in over his head, knew he had to be projecting or pushing things or both. This could blow up in his face catastrophically.    
  
Or.    
  
Or maybe he needed to be the one to take them over the line.   
  
Fuck.   
  
That thought sat heavy, utter terror at the idea of risking everything by revealing his feelings weighing like a stone in his belly. He shifted away from the wall, cleaned himself up, splashed water on his face. He stared at himself in the mirror, disheveled hair and flushed cheeks, great, not obvious what he'd been doing in here at all.   
  
'Pull yourself together man.'   
  
His reflection stared back at him, silent and totally unhelpful. He sighed deeply, reached to unlock the door, stepped out into the walkway -   
  
\- and almost collided with Alejandro.   
  
_ ' Oh fuck _ _,_ ahh, hey.'   
  
_ Smooth _ _,_ Graver. Alejandro was watching him, those hypnotic fucking eyes staring straight into him, seeing everything, he was absolutely certain. How long had he been standing there? What had he heard? Jesus godfucking christ, if it were possible for Matt to hurl himself out the airlock right now he would definitely be doing that. He felt his cheeks flushing deeper, sending his embarrassment skyrocketing, but Alejandro just gave him a soft smile and reached out to squeeze his shoulder.   
  
'I just wanted to check on you, make sure everything was okay.'   
  
Kind. Giving him space, options, an out if he wanted to take it. And fuck, yeah, there's no way Alejandro was clueless enough to not realise what was up, but they were friends first and foremost, and he was giving Matt the chance to direct this thing. Giving him opportunities to move forward or retreat, his choice. Guilt gnawed away at his ribs. He needed to do something, couldn't just keep spinning like this, making himself miserable, touching himself and aching for it to be his friend instead. Saying nothing. He had to be braver than this. What a mess. Alejandro squeezed his shoulder again, called him back to the present, a hint of actual concern colouring his voice now.    
  
'Matt?'    
  
And Matt reached for him, mirrored his touch, squeezed his shoulder. Now wasn't the time for this.    
  
'I'm good. Just feeling a little claustrophobic. Remind me, why did we decide to fly commercial again? Cause I'm definitely ready to go back to Gulfstreams.'   
  
He smiled, tried to let it touch his eyes. Alejandro paused for a moment, seeing the deflection for what it was but letting him have it, slowly drawing back his hand. Lightening things.    
  
'It's the dreadful coffee that's really killing me.'   
  
Matt laughed. Solid ground. He let himself take a steadying breath and sink into their familiar teasing, safe.    
  
'Maybe you should just start bringing your own? You know, keep some of your hipster grind and a French Press in your pack or something. Give yourself the option to just whip it out and act like a total wanker at the drop of a hat.'   
  
He was grinning, and Alejandro's laughter was so bright, golden and warm, settling the turmoil in his head. Matt leant close, bumped their shoulders together.    
  
'Come on, I bet if we ask real nice they'll let us raid the peanut stash in the galley.'   
  
Retreat it was, then. Maybe just for a little longer.    
  
  


 


End file.
